


Apocalypse Won.

by tenebrisaeternam



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, Multi, Post-Apocalypse, almost like a Hades and Persephone au but not quite?, don't hate me for that, semi slow burn?, there will be smut, there's some science in this that may not be accurate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-10-16 10:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17548229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenebrisaeternam/pseuds/tenebrisaeternam
Summary: In the showdown at Outpost Three, Michael is victorious and takes the only witch left alive back to the Sanctuary with him.





	1. Blood on the Outpost Floor.

**Author's Note:**

> My very first fic EVER. I'm so very nervous/excited to share it with you all! I will try to update this weekly. As of now, the first three chapters are written and posted but I have no idea how long this fic will be, so chapter count is up in the air at the moment. 
> 
> The first chapter is very similar to the finale, most of it is a play by play of the altercation between Michael and the witches at the Outpost, only told from his viewpoint. It is very canon...until it is definitely not. I will apologize in advance for this. You'll understand why as soon as you finish it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My very first fic EVER. I'm so very nervous/excited to share it with you all! I will try to update this weekly. As of now, the first three chapters are written and posted but I have no idea how long this fic will be, so chapter count is up in the air at the moment.
> 
> The first chapter is very similar to the finale, most of it is a play by play of the altercation between Michael and the witches at the Outpost, only told from his viewpoint. It is very canon...until it is definitely not. I will apologize in advance for this. You'll understand why as soon as you finish it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“The Seventh Seal has been broken. Wyrmwood has fallen from the sky and turned the rivers to blood and fire. The bottomless pit has been opened and my swarms of locusts and scorpions have ravaged humanity. The world has been remade in my father’s image.”

The witches were so smug, so sure that they could defeat him, it was truly baffling. On and on they went about spitting vitriol and petty insults. It made no difference, he wasn’t even half interested in their quips. Michael figured it was only a matter of time before he got bored of the games and decided to end it all without a second thought of giving them a chance….but he knew he would anyway. He didn’t exactly *need* the witches at the Sanctuary, but it was his own selfishness that forced him to offer. 

“I could annihilate all of you within a second and the world would go on without missing a beat. You, and all of your work will be forgotten in the rubble of the past.” Stepping forward, he eyed them all from his position at the top of the stairs. “But I want to give you a future. Fall to your knees and accept me as your lord and savior and I will bring you to the table as my obedient subjects..” 

The sound of Cordelia’s chuckle ringing through the air made the hair on the nape of his neck stand up. He knew she would be defiant, it was within her nature, both as who she was as a person and as Supreme. Even though he didn’t particularly care one way or another, there was still a pang of...something...some strange emotion at the expression she wore that he didn’t have time to examine.

Ms. Mead spoke then, her voice loud and strong. “Imbeciles! Fall to your knees before the king! Hail Satan!” 

His loyal Ms. Mead. She always knew how to bolster his confidence. Confidence that took a hit not two seconds later when Cordelia decided to speak this time instead of laugh at him. 

“The only way we would sit at your table is if your decapitated head were the centerpiece.” 

Before he could issue a response, Dinah stepped up beside Cordelia. Michael listened, taking in what was unfolding before him with only limited interest. He’d known the so called voodoo queen was on his side, it was a guarantee after everything his father had done for her. Although, for her to publicly declare it in front of the others made him smirk wickedly. 

The appearance of Marie Laveau had been somewhat of a surprise, but not exactly a problem. She wasn’t a real threat, none of them were in his mind, so he let them squabble. He could admit, at least to himself, that it was slightly entertaining to watch as Marie’s machete nearly took off Dinah’s head. The loss of an ally was a small annoyance, but he supposed it saved him from undoubtedly having to kill her later. If she turned on her own kind, there would be nothing to keep her from turning on him. Better for her to die now, at the hands of someone else.

Bored of the theatrics, a glance was given to his trustworthy Ms. Mead as he mentally provided the command to open fire. She prepared her weapon, and Michael heard Cordelia utter a word that dropped his heart into his gut. 

“Confringe!” 

Ms. Mead began to malfunction immediately, strange noises emanated from her mouth that was opened far too widely, her head thrashing and jerking about. He watched with something close to terror in his eyes, that carefully constructed mask of arrogance slipping as he felt true fear for his right hand. 

“Ms. Mead?” 

The blast wave was violent, a force powerful enough to throw him over the railing of the stairs. He hit the floor heavily on his back, the breath knocked completely from him. Michael gasped and sputtered, trying to replenish oxygen to his lungs as he opened his eyes. After noticing something in his peripheral vision, accompanied by a wet, gurgling sound, he turned his attention to his left. Ms. Mead’s detached head lay beside him in a pool of her own internal fluids. Moving onto his side, he picked up the head gingerly, listening as she eerily sang an old tune he instantly recognized. 

“Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I’m half crazy, all for the love of you…”

Tears instantly sprang from his eyes, sliding down his face which was spattered with the milky white substance that would be forever be remembered as her blood. It was painful watching her die all over again, a surge of emotion causing him to tremble. Seeing his Ms. Mead in so many shattered pieces brought back all the feelings of rage from the first time she was murdered by Cordelia. They only just had a reunion, and now here he was without her once again. Sure, she could be rebuilt, but that didn’t help him now. After setting the severed head back onto the floor, Michael stood and turned, ready to avenge his fallen right hand. 

“Sorry about your little toy….bitch..” 

He was greeted by the sight of Madison, wielding the gun that had been built into Ms. Mead’s right arm. There was a brief thought of surprise before she opened fire on him, then there was only pain. Every bullet felt like white hot puncture wound, lighting up his entire core in a sheer mass of bleeding agony. Distantly, he felt his back slam against the wall, his legs buckling underneath his body as he slid to the floor. The last thing he saw was the group of witches huddled across from him, his vision blurring as darkness finally ate the world. 

Dying wasn’t pleasant, and coming back to life was just as undesirable. He ached all over, but his chest hurt the most and faintly...his head? His scalp felt raw in one spot as if some of his hair had been torn out, but he couldn’t remember why. After standing once again, he noticed the other witches had fled, leaving only Madison to watch him. 

“Oh fuck...I guess it’s back to retail.” 

Holding his hand out towards her, Michael envisioned what he wanted to happen, expending just enough power to make it so as his fingers clenched into a tight fist. That pretty blonde head exploded like a ripe melon, her lifeless body falling to the floor in a heap. After cracking his neck, he went up the stairs, following the unmistakable trace of energy the witches left behind.

As he made his way towards what could only be Cordelia and the rest of them, Marie Laveau tried to block his way. After uttering some inane voodoo babble, she sprinkled a substance onto the floor, huffing before staring at Michael with confidence. 

“You will not pass.” 

He tried to push forward and found that it was slightly more difficult than it should have been. Her look was triumphant as he scowled at her. 

“You dealin’ with the HBIC now!” 

“You really think your stupid voodoo spells can stop me?” He smiled at her, arrogant and unpleasant as he tilted his head a second before thrusting his arm forward, plunging his hand within her chest cavity. Leaning in, he wrapped his fingers around her heart, clutching it as he hissed in her face. “Is that all you’ve got?” 

She managed to speak once again, nearly breathless from his hold on one of her most vital organs. “Not..exactly..” 

While he was preoccupied with Laveau, he didn’t sense Coco coming up behind him. The only thing that alerted him to her presence was the sudden sharp pain of a knife in his back. 

“Die again, fuckface!” 

Glancing down at the tip of the blade, now protruding through the middle of his chest, he turned his body, keeping his hand still wrist deep within Marie’s chest. His eyes moved from the knife to Coco and he groaned slightly, touching the tip of the metal with his free hand. 

“Normally that’d work..” With a twist, he ripped the voodoo queen’s heart clear of her body, the tissues, arteries, and veins that held it securely tearing like paper. Her body dropped backwards as he held the organ up, smiling as he watched Coco pale even under the hideous makeup she was wearing. “But I’m nothing like normal.” 

Bringing the heart up to his waiting mouth, his eyes never left Coco’s face as he took a large bite. His teeth sank into the still warm muscle easily before tearing it away from his now bloody lips, chewing and savoring the mouthful. He licked the blood from the corner of his mouth, using his free hand to snap his fingers, causing Coco’s neck to twist unnaturally. Once she was dead, he reached behind himself and grabbed the hilt of the blade she buried in his back. With a grunt, he pulled it free, rolling his neck to work out the kinks in his spine before going in search of the rest of the witches. 

It wasn’t hard to find them, he only had to follow their energy signatures, three of them left, one of which was fading fast. With a little concentration he recognized that it was Mallory. Cordelia and Myrtle were still alive and well. Good. He would enjoy watching them both perish. After walking around a corner, he caught sight of Cordelia standing at the end of the short hallway that he knew lead downwards to another level. A smug smirk tugged at his mouth as he came to a stop. 

“How did you think this would end? Prophecy is inevitable. I was always going to win, Miss Supreme.” His smirk turned into a look of disgust, nearly spitting the title at her with disdain. 

Cordelia turned to look at him, it was clear she had been crying. He hoped she was in pain, feeling the loss of loved ones. “Not on your own. You’ve been lead by the hand. Coddled the entire way by your Father, the warlocks. I look at you and I don’t see a man. I see a sad, scared little boy..so pathetic he couldn’t even kill me with a thousand nuclear bombs.” 

Her choice of insults were interesting, and maybe even held a slight bit of truth, but he couldn’t focus on that now. He was so close. “But I never expected to. Like a cockroach I knew you would survive the nuclear fallout. I wanted you to. And now I’m going to have to satisfaction of watching you die, knowing you failed.” 

“You still don’t get it do you? Even now. You think there’s only winning and losing. Success and failure. But failure...is when you’ve lost any semblance of hope. You will get to watch me die..but you won’t find it satisfying.” She held out her hand, using her magic to call the blade out of his own, sending it flying into hers. 

“Satan has one son...but my sisters are legion, motherfucker.” Before he could do anything to stop her, or even react, she plunged the blade directly into her chest, blood shooting out from the wound almost comically. 

Michael’s jaw fell open, partly in shock. It was unexpected, but it didn’t matter. The only reason Cordelia would have done such a thing is to distract him, and there were still two other witches to take care of. Using his magic, he teleported into the other room where he knew Mallory and Myrtle were. Mallory had only just begun to chant as he appeared next to the tub. 

“Tempus Infinit---”  
Wasting no time, he leaned over and grabbed Mallory by the neck, lifting her bodily from the water with only one arm. 

“Sorry Mallory...you won’t be going back in time today. I know you were looking forward to murdering me, but I win this go around..” His fingers easily crushed the fragile column, tearing the front of her throat completely out. A messy kill, crimson spraying wild, coating his face in a slick wash before her corpse dropped uselessly back into the tub with a splash. 

Myrtle screamed, her hands raised up to cast defensively, but Michael was faster. Her body flew into the wall, pinned, choking and coughing, desperate for air. He knew he must be a sight, covered in blood, blue eyes burning with the heat of battle as he walked towards her slowly, a sweet smile playing on his lips. “Looks like I’ve finally gotten rid of all the witches. Do you think Daddy would be proud of me?” Leaning in, he inhaled through his nose, smelling her fear as his smile widened. “You are well and truly fucked now, Myrtle Snow.” 

“Do what you will, demon. Let me rejoin my...sisters.” Her voice was small, barely able to speak considering he was focusing his power solely on her, using it like a vise, slowly crushing her body like a tin can. 

“Join them? Oh...of course. I have a special place picked out just for you, Mallory and Madison. I decided to let Coco and Marie go..wherever their souls were meant to go. Less is more in this case. You see..I took a page out of your Supreme’s book...all three of your souls will belong to me, and now that Mallory is dead, her power will revert back to Cordelia, causing her resurrection since there isn’t anywhere else for it to go..” Michael looked her over for a moment, then shook his head. “It’s truly a pity we couldn’t all just get along..I think you would have liked the Sanctuary. I’m sure Cordelia and I will have a lovely time..who knows, maybe she’ll even start to like me..” 

“Not if you keep dressing like that, foul….thing..” Mustering up the last of her energy, the older witch tilted her head a moment before spitting directly into Michael’s face.

Despite the rude act, he flashed her a brilliant smile, giving her a wink before moving back and wiping the spit away. He said nothing else, keeping his smile as he watched, his power crushing her body into nothing but a bloody red pile of unrecognizable meat and viscera. The smile he wore faded, upper lip curling in disgust as he eyed the mess, then made his way out of the room. 

That smile returned as he walked down the steps, watching as the pool of blood that was spreading out from under Cordelia’s body began to disappear, seeping back into where it belonged. Once he made it to the bottom, he knelt beside her, placing one hand over her chest, his other arm cradling her head in the crook of his elbow, closing his eyes as he focused. He could feel it, her pulse flaring to life, slow and thready, weak...but there all the same. His smile widened once he heard her take a gasping breath. He turned his head, eyes no longer blue, but as black as coal as he opened them and looked upon her as she slowly came to. 

“Welcome back, Miss Cordelia..” 

Dark brown hues blinked once, then twice, focusing as the realization sank in. Michael saw the look of absolute fear in her gaze before it was cut off abruptly, her body going limp in his arms as she slipped back into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are we feeling? Good? Bad? Hate me right about now? I'm sorry. Please feel free to tell me what you think in the comments below or even come yell at me on tumblr @noxaeternum. Thank you so much for reading!


	2. Alive Again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cordelia wakes up in a different place and learns there may be more to Michael than meets the eye.

The inside of her mouth felt impossibly dry as if it were lined with cotton. She tried to swallow and found that she was incapable, so she coughed instead. Her throat was tight and parched and it only made her cough again as she lifted her arm to cover her mouth, wincing as she felt a sharp tug in her skin. Even though her eyelids felt like they weighed fifty pounds each, she was finally able to open them, squinting against the harsh fluorescent lighting of what resembled a hospital room. 

Hospital? That couldn’t be true, there weren’t any hospitals anymore. There wasn’t anything anymore. She blinked again, moving to sit up slowly, her eyes focusing on the IV in her arm, the white hospital gown she wore. Cordelia was still trying to put together all of the pieces, her hand moving to the IV when he decided to speak up from his chair across the room. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Those fluids are rehydrating you, as well as helping with the pain.” 

She almost ripped out the IV anyway, the sound of his voice startling enough to make her jump. Turning her head, she caught sight of Michael Langdon sitting across from her, legs crossed with a smug smirk on his face. 

He continued to watch her a moment, ice blue eyes impassive. “Good morning, Miss Cordelia.” 

She knew the title was a jab, him using what her students would refer to her as was nothing more than an attempt to get under her skin. Cordelia ignored it, pressing the button on the bed rail to raise the mattress before laying back, keeping her eyes on him. “Where am I, and why aren’t I dead?” 

“You mean you don’t remember?” The smirk he wore grew as he tilted his head, his hands folding in his lap. “I know you only just woke up, but the answer is quite obvious.” 

His response made her blood run cold, her stomach twisting into knots. Once she fully grasped the realization of what must have happened, her hands clenched into fists. “They’re dead. All of them. That’s why I’m alive. The power had to go somewhere, so I was brought back.” 

Michael held his smirk, raising his brows. “Clever girl.” He stood from his chair then, walking closer to her bed. She fought the urge to shrink back from him even though she knew he had her right where he wanted. He’d won after all, and she was here, wherever here was, probably as his prisoner. 

“I know you were hoping Mallory would be able to go back in time using that spell...I’m assuming to kill me..probably when I was still a child, before coming into my power. That’s low by the way..even for you.” He didn’t get too close to her, maybe two feet away, still watching her with those cold eyes. “She almost made it..but almost wasn’t good enough.” 

Cordelia bit back the scathing remarks that were poised on her tongue, none of them would help things anyway. She felt the ache in her chest as she thought of Myrtle and her girls, Mallory and Madison..even Coco. The feeling of failure was strong enough to make hot tears sting at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall in front of Michael. Instead she focused on something else. “You never did say where we were.” 

He blinked and tilted his head, his long blonde hair sliding over one shoulder of his black suit jacket. Still impeccably dressed, as usual. “I thought you would have figured that one out already. We’re at the Sanctuary, Miss Cordelia. You’ve been unconscious for nearly a week. We very nearly lost you a few times, but it looks like you’re finally beginning to bounce back.” 

She swallowed thickly, looking around her room, and it still didn’t seem any different from a real hospital. There were machines taking her vitals, an oxygen and suction station on the wall behind her, flowers on her bed side table, even a dry erase board indicating which nurses she had during the week. The only thing that was missing was a window.

Confusion must have shown on her face because Michael chuckled softly. “I know what you must be thinking, and yes...we are in a hospital of sorts. The Sanctuary is equipped with a fully functional medical facility, along with everything that is required for nearly every medical procedure.” 

After she stared at him for a moment, she looked away, shaking her head. “The Sanctuary. Of course. And I’m assuming since there aren’t any windows…?” 

“That we’re completely underground like at the Hawthorne School? Yes. Unfortunately that wasn’t something that could be negotiated when it came to construction. We had to keep every point in mind, and being resistant to nuclear fallout was of course, the biggest point.” He took another step towards her bed, his hands moving to clasp together behind his back.

The sound of the smugness in his voice was enough to make her wish she could strangle him. Arrogant boy. She let out a low sigh. “So...my witches are dead, the world is destroyed and I’m here with you at the Sanctuary as I’m assuming, your prisoner?” Cordelia looked at him then, finally finding her anger, defiance in her dark hues as she glared. 

There was something in her eyes that caused Michael to smile, then lean closer, giving her the full attention of his gaze. “There she is. I was wondering how long it would take for you to gather yourself, Miss Supreme.” 

She didn’t return his smile, choosing to keep her expression blank instead. “Am I your prisoner or not, Langdon?” 

He seemed to like the sound of that, she watched as smile widened. “My prisoner? Even though I would love nothing more than to see you in chains...that isn’t what you are here. I told you and the others I wanted to give you a future. That wasn’t a lie.” 

She snorted, raising her brows and gave him an incredulous smirk. “And all I have to do is get on my knees? Accept you as my lord and saviour? I didn’t really peg you for a megalomaniac, but I assume you get that from your father.” 

With the mention of his father, he stiffened, straightening his posture and smoothed out his jacket. A nervous habit. The smile was also gone from his face, but he spoke anyway. “There won’t be any need for theatrics...just fall in line, and don’t cause trouble. Things don’t end well for those who defy me.” 

Her mouth opened to hurl an insult, but she was interrupted by another person entering the room. Someone she was only slightly surprised to see. 

“Sorry for interrupting, but they’re all waiting for you in the conference room, sir.” 

Michael turned his attention to the short, older woman who had just spoken to him. “Thank you, Ms. Mead. You can wait outside, I won’t be much longer.” 

Ms. Mead gave him a nod along with a small smile, not even glancing to Cordelia before she left once more, closing the door behind her. 

Cordelia waited a few moments before chuckling softly, her arm raising a bit so she could point towards the door. “Do you have extras just laying around or do you have to make a custom order every time your little toy gets destroyed?” 

She didn’t see him move. Not really. There was only a blur, a sensation of movement, then suddenly she felt his hand wrap around her wrist, tight like a vise. Using his position to his advantage, he loomed over her, only a few inches from her face. His blue eyes had darkened, but not from anything demonic, only anger as he snarled at her, his grip tightening with every word. “That toy...means more to me than you could ever know. And if you want to see your precious girls again, or your dear Aunt Myrtle..you will fall in line and do exactly as I say. I am open to giving you a future here Cordelia Goode, but my patience is not limitless. If I see that you are more trouble than you’re worth I will execute you and lose zero sleep over it.” 

Cordelia had never seen him angry like that before, actually showing emotion instead of that mask he was so fond of. It startled her, but she caught what he said about the witches. “My girls? They’re...alive?” 

“No..they are well and truly dead.” He said coldly, eyes as empty and pitiless as a winters sky. “But all is not lost for them, you may even end up all reunited once again. It all depends on you, Miss Supreme.” Michael let go of her wrist and stepped back, his facial features returning to normal as if he hadn’t just verbally bitten her head off. “Once you’ve healed completely, you will be assigned a living area and I will give you a personal tour of the facility. I will answer your questions then.” He smoothed out his suit jacket once again, then walked to the door, reaching out to grab the handle before stopping himself. 

His head turned as he looked back to her, keeping his hand on the door. “I think once you see it, you will realize that not everything you once thought you knew is as it seems..nor is everyone.” Michael held her gaze for a moment longer before he opened the door and stepped out, leaving her alone in her room once again. 

Cordelia frowned as she watched him go, a furrow forming between her brows. Confusion wasn’t something she was used to experiencing for herself, but the former Supreme had a feeling that came with this new world, and with anything involving Michael Langdon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions, comments, and critiques are always welcome! Thank you for reading!


	3. Flirt.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cordelia and Michael meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be honest and say not much happens in this chapter, but I felt like this interaction was necessary. Also, expect word count to go up dramatically in the next chapter as that's when the actual tour of the Sanctuary begins and I am so excited to explore that. Enjoy!

After much internal debate over whether or not Michael should show Cordelia around the Sanctuary on his own, he found himself waiting for her arrival in his personal office. It had been three days since they last spoke in the med bay, and he felt on edge ever since. There was something about the encounter that got under his skin, something about her even. It was in the way she looked at him, the resentment there was nearly palpable. She was once his bitter rival, his sworn enemy. Now that he defeated her, what could they be? Allies? Friends? More than friends? That last one was almost laughable considering how much she hated him, but he was willing to keep an open mind to possibility. 

So why would he want someone around who was once his enemy, the person who was basically the entire reason for the Apocalypse?

The truth was simple, and somewhat humbling. Even among the people in the Sanctuary, Michael still felt alone. He yearned for someone who could understand him, a companion, an equal. He had Ms. Mead of course, and his loyal members of the Cooperative, as well as the other occupants of the Sanctuary, but it wasn’t enough. Even the women, and sometimes men, that would enter his bed only fulfilled certain needs; never connecting with any of them beyond carnal indulgences. They were only warm bodies to slake the lust that rose up within him at times. He needed more than that, craved it even. To have one person that was just his, that wanted him for who he really was, not just what he was. Michael would have given just about anything for that sort of connection. 

Not that he truly believed Cordelia was the one for that. He assumed she would rather claw his eyes out than kiss him, but he would be a liar if he said he didn’t feel something between them. Even the first time they met at Hawthorne’s there was some kind of...spark. She was possibly the only person left on the planet that could come close to knowing him, really knowing him. 

He wasn’t sure yet if that was a comforting thought, or not. 

Michael was sitting at his desk, reading over various documents that required his attention when there was a knock. He didn’t bother looking up, he already knew who it was when he spoke. “Enter.” 

The door opened, Ms. Mead entering first, holding it open for Cordelia to pass through before letting it shut behind them. There was a few moments of silence as Michael finished reading, both women standing before his desk. Ms. Mead stood at attention, as she normally did considering her military background, but Cordelia was different. Her posture was still perfect, but she stood with the burden of annoyance and boredom, as if it was all beneath her. She wasn’t used to this, to having to answer to anyone. Before the Apocalypse, she was the Supreme, the top of the food chain in her world, she was in charge. 

That world wasn’t anything more than ash now due to the plethora of nuclear bombs that laid waste to it, all thanks to Michael of course. As well as his Father. 

Apparently patience was another thing Cordelia wasn’t used to either because a moment later she spoke. “If you just wanted to have me stand in front of your desk all day watching you sign what I’m sure are very important documents, you could have told me. I would have worn more comfortable shoes.” 

He didn’t bother giving her an answer right away, only signed his name in his perfect cursive, then tucked the stack of papers away into a black folder. While he was doing that, Ms. Mead interjected. “You should really learn to have some respect for authority.” 

Cordelia opened her mouth to retort, but Michael cut her off when he stood. “Thank you for bringing Miss Cordelia to me. Now, I need you to take this folder to Jeff, he should be in his lab. He’ll know what they are. That will be all, Ms. Mead.” His tone of voice left no room for discussion along with the look he gave her as he held the folder out for her to take. 

Ms. Mead nodded, reaching out to take the folder. “Yes sir.” She gave Cordelia another look, one of clear distrust, before leaving the room. 

Cordelia scoffed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t think she likes me very much.” 

“That tends to happen when you kill someone not once, but twice.” Michael smirked at her before he finished clearing off his desk. “But that isn’t why she looks at you that way.” 

She raised her brow slowly, clasping her hands together in front of her. “Oh? Why then?” 

He walked around his desk to stand in front of her, having to look down. It had been a while since they were this close, he’d forgotten how petite she actually was. “I’m the closest thing to a son she has ever had, and she is the only mother I’ve ever had. She doesn’t trust you. Surely at some point you must have questioned the bond her and I share?”

Cordelia looked down at her hands a moment, unable to keep direct eye contact. “Of course I did. I just wasn’t aware it was that type of relationship.” 

His brow furrowed at her sudden demureness, slightly confused until it dawned on him and he laughed. “You thought she was my lover?” He laughed again when she raised her head, looking offended that he was laughing at her. “I’m sorry, I just...it’s funny.” 

She shook her head, crossing her arms across her chest, annoyance clear on her features. “How was I supposed to know what she was to you?” 

Seeing her act so petulant just made him laugh even more. “So you just assumed she was my lover? Ms. Mead is beautiful in her own right, but she isn’t exactly my type.” 

Cordelia smirked then, tilting her head as she looked up at him. “And just exactly what is your type, Langdon?” 

The question itself threw him off guard for a moment, his laughter ceased. He eyed her form up and down before settling his gaze on her face, then decided to answer her. “I have many types, Miss Cordelia. Maybe you’ll find out just what they are someday.” 

A small spike of satisfaction pierced through him as he saw her expression before he sidestepped her, going to the door. He opened it, holding it wide with a pleased smile. 

“Ready for the tour?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, but I promise I will make up for it with the next one! Again, I plan on updating this weekly. Probably on Fridays depending on my schedule. Add me on tumblr if you want @noxaeternum. Questions, comments, and critiques are always welcome. See you guys soon!


	4. The Sanctuary.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael gives Cordelia a tour of the Sanctuary. Some familiar faces are seen. A new character is introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, let me apologize for the long lapse in between the last post and now. Real life has been hectic for me, and a lack of muse has been the culprit in not being able to write. But, I think I may have finally gotten a grip, and here is a long chapter to make up for my absence :)

Cordelia had seen some of the Sanctuary already, but she had a feeling it was much bigger than she imagined. That feeling was all but confirmed as she walked with Langdon towards the end of the hallway, stopping in front of an elevator. “How many floors are there here? And how is there even electricity at all?” 

Michael reached out and pressed the button, smirking to himself as he listened. “Nine floors.” He turned his head and looked over at her as they waited. “It’s a mixture of things really. Since we’re still technically in a nuclear winter, solar energy hasn’t been an option, so at the moment we get all of our power from generators that are fed by wind and water energy. My team who developed and expanded on this certain type of technology could explain it better than I could. Science isn’t exactly where my strengths lie.” The elevator dinged, and he held out his arm, motioning for Cordelia to enter first before he followed suit. 

After the doors closed, Michael pressed a button and began speaking again as if anticipating her questions. “It will be easier if you think of the Sanctuary as a large underground tower.” The car began descending smoothly, no bumps or shakes jostling the ride. “The floor we were just on was the first, nearest to the surface, it consists mainly of offices and conference rooms. The second floor is an area for religious worship, and yes that includes other denominations besides the Satanists. Not everyone here is a minion of my Father’s, although the majority are.” The elevator dinged softly before the doors opened and Michael waited until Cordelia exited first, then did the same. 

The hallway that stretched out before them was much different than the well decorated, yet still slightly corporate aesthetic of the previous floor. White and black veined marble lined the floors, the walls painted a rich burgundy color with black borders. Various pieces of art adorned the walls, expensive art from what Cordelia could tell. “Are these...originals?” 

Michael chuckled and stopped momentarily in front of one of the paintings. He looked up at it, admiring The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun. “You’re surprised? Most of the people that occupy this Sanctuary are the world’s most wealthy. There are some pieces of art that they could not bear to part with. Besides..it’s not like it would have done much good to leave them in the museums where they sat. It was better to collect as much history and art as possible and keep it preserved where it could still be enjoyed, and saved for the future.” 

“And it’s being enjoyed here?” Cordelia stood and faced him, crossing her arms over her chest, looking every bit as dubious as she sounded. 

“Believe it or not, this floor is actually quite busy. People come and go all hours of the day to pay tribute to my Father, or to their own gods, or themselves, or whoever they want.” He turned his attention from the painting, back to her, taking in her stance with a ghost of a smirk. “If you would like a place to….express...your religious freedoms...it will be provided for you. Even though I know you believe you are my prisoner here...you aren’t. Not exactly.” Turning on his heel, he continued walking down the hall without another word. 

The witch watched him walk away for a moment, considering turning around and going back to her quarters. ‘It would serve his smug ass right,’ she thought to herself, but sighed, exasperated and followed him anyways, muttering. “It’s only the beginning of this stupid tour, and I already want to strangle him.” 

Michael chuckled again, shaking his head as he continued. “You’re always welcome to try, Miss Cordelia. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good throttling.” Once she arrived at his side, he looked over at her with a teasing smile, something she had never seen on him before. Cordelia blinked her large dark eyes at him, unsure of this new side of Michael Langdon. 

He cleared his throat once he sensed the tension between them, still walking. “That was a joke...” 

She stared at him a moment longer, keeping pace with him. “I’m aware. I just...I’ve never heard you make one before. You seem..different...here. In this place.” 

He gave her his full attention, then a slow blink of his blue eyes, tilting his head slightly. “I suppose I do seem different to you, as you’ve only seen me in slightly hostile environments. What you are seeing is myself..in a somewhat normal state. Trust me, I’m not all Machiavellian schemes and snark every hour of every day. Even the Antichrist has down time, Miss Cordelia.” Without taking his eyes away from her, he stopped in front of two darkly stained wooden doors. 

Cordelia swallowed, throat suddenly feeling dry, then looked away hurriedly at the doors before them. Michael watched her silently for a moment longer, then pushed one open, holding it long enough for her to enter. The room they stepped in was huge, hexagonal in shape, a differently painted door at each of the six sides. There were panels along the walls that provided artificial sunlight, just like in the other parts of the Sanctuary, and in this room, they also hung from the ceiling, mostly around the fountain.

The fountain itself was round and carved of dark grey stone. In the exact center was the statue of a man with the head of a ram, reading from a book to a crowd of animal statues. The animals consisted of a wolf, a stag, a hare, a toad, and an owl. If one were to look closely, the statues were positioned in the shape of a pentagram, with the ram in the center. Water sprayed up, arching out from the front of each statue except for the ram. There were a few people milling about the room, one older woman sat on the edge of the fountain, dipping her fingers into the water. She turned her head towards them and grinned before she stood up and all but ran at them. 

“Michael! You’re finally back!” 

Cordelia watched on with curious eyes. This woman looked old enough to be Michael’s grandmother, and yet she knew that couldn’t be right. She knew who his grandmother was, and this was not Constance Langdon. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline when the other woman not only approached Michael with ease, but threw her arms around him, giving him a tight hug which he definitely reciprocated, holding the smaller woman close with a small smile. “Madelyn. It’s so good to see you. I trust you’ve been well taken care of?” 

Madelyn pulled back, beaming up at Michael, reaching to smooth some of his hair away from his face in an almost motherly way. “I have everything I need. Your people here are very thorough and attentive. So much thought went into this place, it’s amazing. I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do it!” 

Michael preened under her attentions, smiling brightly before slipping his arm around her shoulder to turn her towards Cordelia. “Madelyn..this is Cordelia Goode. She’s going to be staying here at the Sanctuary with us now. Cordelia, this is Madelyn. A very dear friend of mine.” 

Cordelia smiled, but didn’t offer her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Madelyn.” 

The older woman gave Cordelia a quizzical look. “I remember you. You were on TV that one time a few years back...you had the witch school in New Orleans.” 

The witch’s smile faltered slightly, looking from Madelyn to Michael, then back again. She laced her fingers together and straightened her posture, holding her hands loosely in front of her. “Yes. I did. Miss Robichaux’s academy for exceptional young ladies.”

“No offense, but I thought that was a crock of shit for a long time. Then of course I sold my soul to Satan, and everything changed. If He’s real, then witches must be too.” Madelyn laughed, nudging Michael with her elbow. “Anyways. It’s almost time for service. It was nice meeting you, Miss Goode. Hopefully I’ll see you around. And you!” She turned and poked Michael in the chest. “You still owe me a visit, sir.” 

Cordelia did her best to hide a laugh within a cough as she watched them. Michael raised his brows, and chuckled softly. “So I do. I’ll come by tonight and we can have dinner together. Like old times.” 

Madelyn grinned at him. “I would like that.” She gave him another squeeze. “I’m glad you’re home.” Michael’s face shifted a little, recovering quickly when the older woman looked up at him again before pulling away. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He gave her a nod. “Yes, tonight. Enjoy the service.” 

She smiled and waved at them both before making her way towards the only doors that were painted black. More people were beginning to fill the room, all going for service at the Satanic temple. Michael tilted his head at Cordelia with smirk, obviously back to his normal self. “Care to go to church?” 

Cordelia rolled her eyes and turned on her heel to walk off, Michael’s chuckling following her as he caught up. “Oh come on, it could be fun. You might even learn something.” 

She didn’t give him an answer, only kept walking, watching the growing line of people shuffle in through the black doors. They all seemed to be looking at her, as well as who was walking next to her. Cordelia saw a mix of emotions all on unfamiliar faces, curiosity was there mostly, but some looked outright jealous. That was strange, these people didn’t even know who she was, why would they be jealous? 

Michael walked next to her, smiling politely at the people they passed, even nodding at a few of them. Once they were past the throng, he looked over at Cordelia again. “You didn’t want to see the rest of it?” 

Cordelia glanced over her shoulder, seeing a few of the women still staring at them. “Why did some of those people look at me like they hated me? Or that they were jealous? They don’t know me...not unless you told them..” 

He shook his head as they continued the walk, exiting out the same doors they came through. “I’ve told them nothing, but rumors do tend to fly around here. There aren’t many of us, and every time we get a new member...unfortunately gossip happens.” Michael had the grace to look slightly embarrassed for a moment. “Also...most of those women have been trying to get their claws in me ever since this all began. It’s gotten even worse now that we’re trying to rebuild the population. Many of them want a child and haven’t been exactly subtle in who they would want to be the father.” 

She looked back at him with a frown. “They think I’m stealing you away?” 

He nodded, keeping his eyes forward as they kept walking towards the elevator. “Something like that, yes.” 

The blonde shook her head with a scoff. “They really shouldn’t have bothered. I’m not interested. Besides, I can’t have children anyways.” She tried to keep that last bit from sounding bitter, failing miserably. 

Michael didn’t respond to that right away, instead he stopped in front of the stainless steel doors and pressed the 'down' button. His voice came quietly after a few moments of waiting. “I don’t know if I can give them what they seek...and even if I could, I wouldn’t just have children with anyone. I’m not even sure a human woman could carry my seed. My own mother died giving birth to me...I wouldn’t wish that on any child.” 

He was very carefully not looking at Cordelia, staring straight ahead as if memorizing his warped reflection in the elevator doors. She didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing, still unsure of this new, slightly easier to deal with side of Michael Langdon. The elevator opened a few seconds later, and the tour continued. They decided to skip the third floor since it was only living quarters. The fourth floor consisted of dining areas and kitchens, as well as living quarters for the human staff that helped run them. Cordelia was absolutely fascinated with the fifth and sixth floors, education and recreation, and agricultural and sustainable resources respectively. 

On the agricultural side of the sixth floor, there were different sections for different things. Fruits and vegetables, hybrids, grains and herbs took up most of the space. It was the brightest spot in the entire Sanctuary, the sunlight panels were in abundance. There was an actual greenhouse specifically used for cultivating flowers. Michael watched Cordelia touch the petal of an orchid delicately, noting the longing in her eyes. “I miss my own greenhouse..” 

He cleared his throat, sticking his hands in his pockets. “If that is something you believe would help ease your transition into the Sanctuary...I can see that it is provided to you.” 

She turned to look at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You would do that?” 

“As long as you didn’t use it for nefarious purposes such as creating poisons...” Michael smirked, then sighed. “Yes, I would do that. Besides...poison won’t work on me.” 

Cordelia rolled her eyes and smirked, turning back to the flowers. “What a pity.” 

She was already knowledgeable of the seventh floor, and opted to skip another visit to the medical facility she had woken up in. The eighth floor was interesting enough, completely dedicated to science and technology. The witch had the honor of meeting two men that went by the names Mutt and Jeff, remembering Myrtle recalling her encounter with them at Kineros Robotics. 

Her dislike of them was almost immediate. 

In between snorting bumps of cocaine from a ridiculous plastic ladle, Jeff prattled on to Michael about their current project. Mutt did the same, although he was using a small plastic straw in place of the ladle. As they discussed things over the sounds of easy listening, Cordelia drifted and began eyeing her surroundings. The room was nearly sterile in its whiteness, almost devoid of any color at all except random robot parts strewn on different tables. She realized they must have been the ones to build the Miriam Mead bot she had destroyed back at the Outpost. Her thoughts were broken as soon as she heard one of them ask about her. 

“So Mikey, who’s your lady friend? Aren’t you going to introduce us?” 

Mikey? 

Maybe she was hasty in her opinion after all. She gave them a sweet smile and stepped up next to Michael, looking at him innocently. “Yes, Mikey, won’t you introduce me to your friends?” 

Michael felt his own cheeks turning red, but he kept his composure, only clenching his jaw slightly. “Jeff and Mutt, this is Cordelia Goode. Cordelia, meet Mutt and Jeff...two of my leads in the technology and agricultural departments. Despite their atrocious cocaine habit, they’re both invaluable to the Sanctuary.” 

“Atrocious? I think you mean, amazing.” Jeff grinned at Michael, the entire tip of his nose dusted in cocaine. He held out the ladle to Cordelia. “Would the lady care to partake?” 

Michael clenched his jaw even tighter, which made Cordelia laugh, shaking her head at Jeff. “Thank you, but no.” 

“Suit yourself. We have plenty here if you ever change your mind. Turns out, the apocalypse is kind of a drag, so we’ve also been developing different strains of marijuana and psilocybin if you’re interested in that instead of the old China white.” Mutt attempted to wipe away some of the coke on his nose, but only smeared it. 

Cordelia raised a brow in question, tilting her head slightly. “Psilocybin? You mean the psychedelic mushrooms right?” 

Michael turned, giving her a surprised look and she replied. “What? I wasn’t always this old, Langdon. I went through my rebellious youth phase too.” 

Jeff clapped his hands once, pointing at Cordelia and grinning wildly. “I like her! She isn’t afraid to call you out on your shit, Mikey!” 

She smirked, still looking at Michael. “Yes….I do enjoy calling Mikey out on his shit.” 

Michael appeared to be trying to rein in his temper, counting to ten internally with his eyes closed. “If you two are quite finished, there are other matters that require my attention.” His blue eyes flashed open, looking to Cordelia then. “I have an escort waiting to return you back to your quarters or anywhere else you wish to go within the Sanctuary.” He turned away from them, stopping once he heard Cordelia’s voice again. 

“Wait, you said there were nine floors. We’ve only seen eight of them.” 

He spoke without moving. “The ninth floor is restricted. Only those who have access may enter.” 

“And how do you go about getting access?” The curiosity lilted her voice, which made him turn and face her once more. 

“You don’t. I can assure you, there’s nothing down there of any interest, Miss Cordelia. Now, I’m afraid I must be going. Your escort is waiting just outside the door.” Circling around on his heel, he left the room without another word. 

Cordelia watched him leave, frowning softly. Mutt spoke up then, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Don’t let him get to you, he’s always been like that. We haven’t even been down to the ninth floor, and we’ve been here since the beginning.” 

Without looking up from the robotic arm he was tinkering away on, Jeff spoke too. “Oh, and don’t get too freaked out by Michael’s escorts. They can be a little unnerving if you aren’t expecting it, but they’re basically harmless.” 

“That isn’t comforting, but thank you.” Cordelia left the room the same way Michael did, ending up in the empty hallway. She looked around for her ‘escort’, but didn’t see anyone. Shrugging it off, she began walking towards the elevator, suddenly very aware that she wasn’t alone. Turning around, she gasped lightly, taking a step back as she was suddenly face to face with the creature Michael had sent for her. 

Even though it was dressed like a human, it very clearly wasn’t. The limbs were too long, too thin. The hands were almost skeletal, pale white fingers with extra digits that ended in darkly stained claws. A gaunt face was framed by long, jet black hair, bright golden eyes were striking in such a pale visage. Everything he wore was black from the flat rimmed bolero hat, to the trousers that were tucked into what appeared to be combat boots, as well as the long sleeved tunic that fell to his ankles. There was also a thin, black, gossamer like veil attached to the hat that draped down to the ground, flowing behind him as he moved. 

Of course Langdon couldn’t just send her a human escort, he had to remind her of what he was and what power he held by sending her an actual demon. 

She sighed, muttering to herself. “Fucking Langdon. Alright then, lets go.” Without a word from the demon, they made their way to the elevators in silence. Then spent the trip back to her quarters in silence. Cordelia realized with a pang that it was too quiet without Michael’s endless sarcasm to fill the void. She’d spent all day with him, and they hadn’t argued really, not even once. A small part of her felt strange for that, almost as if she were betraying herself for not being a constant venomous bitch towards him. 

It wasn’t that she was starting to like Michael, it was just...she was tired. Tired of fighting him, tired of holding onto so much rage. It drained her. She wasn’t forgiving him, not by a long shot, but she was learning how to survive in this new world. His new world. That thought still made her slightly nauseated, but she would have to accept it for now. Besides, if she did what was asked of her, she could possibly get her sisters back. She missed them terribly and would do whatever it took to see them again. If that meant being slightly less savage towards Michael, then surely she could manage. 

Once they made it to Cordelia’s suite, the demon stopped, waiting on her to go inside. She paused as she opened the door, taking in those large, slightly unsettling golden eyes. “I feel strange not speaking to...the person who is in charge of my safety. Can you speak in the human tongue?” 

The demon watched her silently, then nodded before speaking. Its voice was much softer than she imagined it would be, although it echoed in whispers, causing a shiver to go up her spine. “I am Solas. My prince has assigned me to be your personal escort.” 

Cordelia scoffed, looking incredulous as she crossed her arms. “Your prince? You mean Michael?” 

Solas nodded again, his face remaining blank and stoic. “He is the son of our dark lord, prince of princes. He will rule in Hell one day.” 

It was strange to think of Michael Langdon as anything other than a smug brat, but she wouldn’t say that to a demon. Instead, she stepped inside her room, looking back. “Thank you, Solas.” 

Before she could close her door, she saw him dematerialize in a wisp of black smoke. She leaned against the wood once it was closed, mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed! The time between updates won't be so long this time now that I'm out of my funk. What did you guys think of Solas? According to the Ars Goetia (one of the books of the Lesser Key of Solomon), Solas is a Great Prince of Hell who commands 26 legions of demons, teaches astronomy and the knowledge of poisonous plants, herbs and precious stones. That sounds like he may be useful to someone we know, yes? Oh, and if you were wondering where I got the inspiration for Solas, here is the image link.  
> https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f7/80/96/f78096073c4c9bede676a9ea953b9440.jpg
> 
> Also, fun fact...the fountain that's mentioned is actually based on a real one in the heart of Five Points South in Birmingham, Alabama. A place I used to visit quite frequently when I was a teenager! It's lovely!  
> https://aicontent.remax-alabama.com/f/content/244/f4f59fac3ea54a41983be407a9dd9d38/590x450.jpg
> 
> Until next time friends, feel free to leave your comments, questions and concerns below or come bother me on tumblr @noxaeternum!


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